Touch
by Elliewrites
Summary: On a plane ride home from Fashion Week. One shot. It's a bit out there.


Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with the Devil Wears Prada. Well, I do own a copy of the book, and the dvd but that's all.

To All: Was in my head today and had to come out. I wish I would take the time to think or plan or edit but that's just not me so here it is.

I used to laugh at people who would talk about their, "better half." They were lesser people. They themselves were not whole and complete, if they needed someone else to fill some empty half. I was not one of those people. Having been married three times myself I knew what it meant to be in a relationship, but I was always my own person. I was a strong, independent woman, who was whole. I could survive with them, or without them. At least until I met her.

It's funny how it started really. Slowly, actually when I think about it. One day she was just suddenly everywhere. She was a flashing beacon, and I couldn't not notice her. Regardless of where we were, or what was taking place, my attention was drawn towards her. It was confusing, but exhilarating.

It's ironic actually because I know that is how I seem to affect others. Miranda Priestly, Editor in Chief, and her persona. The atmosphere changes when I enter a room. My presence alone makes heads turn, voices lowering as if they are disturbing my natural aura or whatever they may call it. But for me only one person created this same distraction. First I fought to ignore it, and then to understand it. Neither worked.

Then came the pull. Yet another first for me. Some days I felt that if I couldn't just touch her I would literally combust. She had developed some gravitational force that was set on high and aimed directly at me. Her presence sent adrenalin pumping through my veins. It was electric. It was intoxicating. It was agonizing. That was particularly inconvenient as she worked for me, well works for me, but we're resolving that soon anyway so it's not important. I didn't understand how something so powerful could be one sided.

And then came the day in the foyer of my townhouse that I discovered it wasn't. Thank god she stumbled through the front door one fateful day nearly six months ago, clumsy as she is. She literally and figuratively fell into my grasps. Had it not been for a heel caught in the dry cleaning and her desperation to protect the Book, we may never have known for certain of our mutual desperation.

But now I hardly recognize the woman I have become. Since that day we haven't separated. In public of course we maintain our distance, but all of the other moments our bodies find a way back together. I have to laugh inwardly to myself when I recall Andrea's explanation for it recently. _Baby, we're magnetic. _I of course pursed my lips at the absurdity of the statement but then she pinned me down on the couch and punished me for my "La Priestly" response as she calls it. And oh how I love being punished. Oh, how I love her.

I find it hard to believe nobody has noticed frankly, as my world has turned upside down since Andrea came into the picture. I am changed. She has changed me. Either that or she has discovered me, and with her I am me. With her it was futile to pretend otherwise any longer. She always knew. But I am changed because whereas before I would have struggled to play a part, now around her I am just me and I love it. But I question again why nobody else has caught wind of this transformation. It must be obvious. I know I am good at playing my La Priestly role, but who knew I could be that good. Shocking.

I manage to feed my addiction well, as I have since we first got together. Of course outside of the office we spend most of our time together. The girls approve as they have found a friend in Andrea as well as a role model. They worship her. It has a lot to do with the new atmosphere. Everything is just lighter, and brighter with Andrea around. Me included. I was a good mother before despite my dedication to my career, but now I am more open to them. Even with my daughters I was trying to play a part, or fill a role. Now we are just living and being and it is wonderful. We have become much closer as they too now have broken through my walls. They laugh with me now, and they laugh at me as well for how quickly my transformation has taken place. Sometimes when they witness Andrea and I together sharing a private moment, a hug, a kiss, even an inside joke they hang back and watch in awe of it all. I know they do. They tell me that Andrea has made them believe in the idea of a soul mate. She has made a believer in me as well.

It is surprising that the press remain in the dark. Andrea and I often dine out together in the evenings with or without the girls. Of course we try to vary our restaurant choices, but people must assume she is simply a friend, colleague, or the nanny depending on our company. Regardless of where we are though if we are outside of work then we are most likely attached somewhere, even if it's only our feet wrapped around one another's under the table.

I try to keep my distance from Andrea at Runway but even I fail occasionally. Somehow she just ends up beside me at many showings or shows. It makes sense of course. She is my assistant after all and her job is to take notes, or fetch whatever I may require at the blink of the eye so of course I need her nearby. If that means that often the right side of my body just happens to lean up against the left side of hers then so be it.

But recently at work the dynamic has changed yet again. Whereas she used to be a step behind me, now I find myself more often than not a step behind her. She will be out on her own soon, away from Runway so I have encouraged her to take the lead. It is her time. I find I want so much to help her achieve her dreams. I sit in my office some days watching her at her desk, and my mind begins compiling a list of the people I want to bring into her world. I want to be the one to introduce her, and I want to stand back and watch while she works her magic on them as she has on me. It won't be long before she has all of them wrapped around her little finger, particularly when I'm always a step behind her to help.

I am so very proud of Andrea, and of the woman she is becoming. When I think about it I'm literally bursting with pride, and happiness that I am allowed to participate in this remarkable woman's growth. She looks to me for guidance. I am so very grateful for that. She has earned my respect and I have earned hers. We both have our faults but our personalities complement one another perfectly. We make each other better people. She makes me want to be a better person.

In fact I have been a better person since our first fashion week together. We have been in Paris twice more since then, and this time was by far the best ever. Andrea has taught me the value of friendship, and when I lay in her arms night after night, it allows me time to reflect on the people in my life and what they mean to me. My relationship with Nigel has been a been a blessing, and many talks with Andrea helped me see that. While he has remained unaware of the biggest change in my life, he has been on the receiving end of my reformed attitude. He has been my most loyal supporter, and a true friend. I let him down once, but I remember every day to make an effort to make it up to him and treat him in a manner deserving of his loyalty, talent, and dedication. We have become closer because of it.

But Nigel is not my best friend. Neither is Donatella, nor any other of my many long time acquaintances. Andrea is my best friend, and my lover. While our bodies are drawn to each other's as lovers are, we also share a kinship that I am saddened to say I have never experienced before. It's funny really as I haven't had a best friend for almost as long as I can remember. I've never had that person to whom I could tell everything. As we walk around hand in hand we tell stories, and laugh, and plan, and dream. We share our innermost fears, and our secret desires. We see the world before us and smile because the team that we are, we know that together anything is possible.

And thankfully my friend Donatella approves and encourages our relationship. She is the only other person aside from the girls and Roy and our housekeeper who knows the truth of the matter. We have been out with her in New York, London, and Paris and she is visibly enchanted by our obvious connection. Andrea thinks she's fantastic, as I do as well.

So that's how we ended up today on her jet bound for New York from Paris. We had planned to fly commercial but after last night's dinner she decided to change her plans and give us a ride back. I told her my team still had work to do but she insisted and so Nigel and Jocelyn came along as well. The first hour after take-off my team and I huddled together while Donatella facilitated the flow of celebratory champagne, and Andrea diligently took notes while ensuring that my glass remained full at all times. Apparently she thought it time I finally relaxed. I watched her smiling yet knew she was so clearly worn down from her super hero like assisting at this, her last fashion week. I just wanted her get some rest.

Andrea though unlike myself is a sleeping professional. That is probably part of the reason she was able to become by far my best assistant ever. She is a survivor who can adapt. She can sleep anywhere, at any time. Occasionally I will find her sleeping at the kitchen island in between her first cup of coffee and waiting for me to leave the house. She sleeps while I cover the book in post its, and mumble to myself about the inadequacies of my staff. Occasionally she mumbles back but I'm certain she is not conscious. But even in her subconscious state her body finds mine every time, and I am happy to become her pillow. That is often the highlight of my day, as my better half rests peacefully beside me.

Seeing her clearly so tired, I decided to cut our meeting short and send my employees save for Andrea back to their seats. Donatella remained with Andrea and myself in our small living area. Within minutes Andrea was nodding off on the couch next to me, and then she was out. Donatella and I continued our conversation for a few minutes before she left us, giving me a knowing smile when she saw me regard my darling next to me when I told her I was staying put. I went back to my notes and the plane entered darkness, flying into the night.

I rarely sleep, and particularly not in public. People don't expect to see me sleep, and I try to stay awake at times like these to avoid scaring my staff. Sometimes I feel they think me something other than human, but alas they are incorrect. And apparently tonight, on this plane ride home after fashion week the Miranda Priestly, tipsy from champagne, and run down from fashion week fell asleep. And as my body does when sleeping it found its better half.

Normally Andrea need not worry about our keeping up appearances when she sleeps because she knows I will be awake. This time she was wrong. My body betrayed me, and now I awaken wrapped in the warmth of my love's arms, my head on her lap as apparently I have shifted into a position we regularly find ourselves in at home in our family room. She remains asleep, pulling me tighter against her as I shift my weight to get up. I hardly want to leave the comfort of my resting place, but given the situation I must.

I literally felt them watching me. Us. It was bound to happen anyway that Nigel and Jocelyn would learn of my relationship, but for them this must have been quite a shock. The stunned look on their faces says it all really. But once my attention is fully on them, I see more. I fail to put up the La Priestly walls quickly enough as my Andrea is surrounding me. They realize that no, this was not a simple sleep mishap. They appear confused, but clearly they have been watching for some time, and have come to a conclusion. I receive a nod of approval from Nigel and a smile from Jocelyn. I pause a moment, but tilt my head and smile back at the both of them. The truth is out and so it goes. They're still standing there processing, but I have no time for them to catch up. I reach for a blanket and place a pillow for my head on Andrea's lap and curl up with her. Her arms surround me once more, and despite our audience I could not be more at peace.


End file.
